A Superfluous Goodbye
by Mizz Moony Luver
Summary: Six year old Nymphadora Tonks has a peculiar imagination and rather peculiar hair. But nothing is at all peculiar about the mysterious, early morning guest sitting at the kitchen table.


**Disclaimer- I'm fed up with having to think of something clever for these things, so you know what? I DO own Harry Potter. Send me money plz. **

**(A/N: You have a mass consumption of sour gummy worms to blame for this.) **

_A Superfluous Goodbye_

Ted Tonks was on a mission. A noble mission to sleep in until noon, and it was the type of mission he often failed extravagantly. However this morning was different, Ted was determined and nothing was to deter him. Except of course the small finger that had just poked his forehead. Ted had meant to reply to it with a swift "Go back to bed Nymphadora, it's only-" he cracked open his eyes and blearily read the glowing digits of the alarm clock, "Six AM," however judging from his daughter look of giggly confusion he realized the whole sentence must have come out more like "Uurrrggghhhhblehgargh."

"Daddy, wake up! It's morning! Where is mum?" Nymphadora shook his shoulder callously and Ted was afraid that he had once again failed his mission. Groaning, he mumbled something about Andromeda being called away late in the evening, or at least well after Nymphs bedtime, and that she would be back sometime in the morning. Then he rolled over, his back to Nymphadora leaving no room for further interrogation.

Nymphadora gave a short 'humph' when it became clear that her father had no intention whatsoever of getting out of bed. That meant she had the entire house to herself for good few hours. A vague notion of getting a glass of milk from the kitchen prompted her to pad downstairs. She approached the landing with caution. Now houses, especially the large suburban variety, are often riddled with monsters and booby-traps when devoid of adults. Nymphadora however faced these challenges gladly. A day didn't go by when Nymph did not regale to the closest thing with ears the memorable battle of the sofa cushions. Today it seemed there was a goblin invasion, and there was a sordid fellowship of the stooped, sinister creatures which ambushed her at the bottom of the staircase.

Nymph pointed her wand (which was invisible, by the way) at the goblins. She didn't know any proper spells, however it was a prime opportunity to employ creative license and make up incantations of her own. She slipped on the hardwood; however it was a calculated move because a spell from no known origin had just about hit her. Despite her clumsiness her spells never missed and pretty soon the goblins scattered, running to the safety of the fast retreating shadows.

However, the battles were never that easy, Nymph was sure that there was a goblin king in the kitchen. The goblin king was a nasty bloke, with three large warts on his colossal, knobby nose and large pointed ears that were constantly perked up like a rabbit's in attention. She could already see him in her minds eye, flexing his long bony fingers dangerously as he sneered at Nymph with crooked yellow fangs. Naturally, there would be a duel of epic proportions, and all before her Mother came home from real world war business to make her breakfast.

Nymphadora breathed deeply, distinctly aware of goblin eyes on her back, she fingered her weapon of choice, her wand, and carefully calculated how best to go about storming into the kitchen. Nymph eventually decided that bursting in suddenly was the best option, as muggle cartoons had taught her, the element of surprise was essential. Upon entering the kitchen with as much fanfare as possible, taking aim, and yelling an incoherent incantation she had recently created, Nymph was shocked to find there was no goblin king. In his stead there was a weary looking teen clothed in black robes, a bemused smile tugging at his lips.

Had Nymph been older she might have described him as handsome, but for now, the male species in general, excluding her father and cousin Sirius, was a biohazard and therefore warranted much caution and distain.

"You're not the goblin king," stated Nymph slightly crestfallen that she had been robbed of a proper adventure.

She could feel the color grow in her cheeks when she realized she still had a green mohawk. Being very young, Nymph didn't have a proper handle on her metamorphmagus powers yet and a good week ago she had seen a punk rocker with a brilliantly lime green mohawk and Sirius, who had been taking time off from Auror work to visit the Tonkes, had given her a roguish grin and dared Nymph to try and copy it. She had done that successfully enough, however had greater trouble reversing it.

Her mother had given Sirius quite the scolding, although half-heartedly, barely being able to sustain a straight face herself. And now that Nymph thought about it, the man sitting at the kitchen table did look quite similar to Sirius. Although, admittedly, he was a great deal skinnier than her cousin and as pale as a sheet. He was just the sort of person her mum would point to and say, "See? That's what happens when you don't eat your greens."

The mysterious guest's smile grew. "No," he agreed, "I'm definitely not a goblin king, I'm actually here to see your mum." There was pause and the visitors bemused grin turned grim and troubled. "I need to talk to her before I go."

Nymph suddenly remembered her Mother's rule about strangers and felt extremely guilty. "Who are you anyway?" asked Nymph, with impeccable six year old logic she figured that if she found out who he was he wouldn't be a stranger at all.

"Regulus, I'm Sirius' brother," Regulus added seeing his name had not registered with Nymph.

The Metamorphmagus looked him over, her Mother and Father had put a lot of spells around their home to ward off malevolent visitors, since Regulus looked relatively unharmed (although his robes were torn in places) and his name rang a vague bell in her head. Nymph decided that he was perfectly benign and determined it was her responsibility to act as a proper hostess in her parent's absence.

"My mum's not going to be home for awhile. Do you want a glass of milk?" Nymphadora offered as she took out a carton from the pantry, which had been enchanted to be so cold it had begun snowing within its tiny confines.

"Err…it's alright. I don't plan on staying very long. I just came to say goodbye, really," said Regulus.

Nymph looked at him with a puzzled expression as she wiped the snow off the carton of milk with her sleeve. "Goodbye? Why would you take the trouble to come here just to say goodbye? Why don't you say 'wotcher' instead?" asked Nymph curiously, more then happy to use her favorite word at any given opportunity.

Regulus seemed to consider this for a moment, "Yes, I suppose that _would_ make more sense," he paused. "Wotcher, Nymphadora."

"I don't like that name. It sounds silly," said Nymph disdainfully.

"What would you rather I call you then?"

"Well, Mum calls me Nymph, but I like Tonks better. It sounds like a proper adventurer name," Nymph had always wanted to be an adventurer and fight evil, just like cousin Sirius.

"Tonks then," Regulus said, although he didn't seem to be listening, in fact he had taken on a distant, vaguely displeased look as he stared out the kitchen window. Everyone did that lately. Nymph had no idea why no one seemed to appreciate the windows. She rather liked them.

There was a good minute of silence while Tonks, Proper Adventurer Extraordinaire, took a long sip of milk and Regulus continued to stare out the window. That's when something occurred to her.

"Are you a bad guy?" she chirped causing him to break out of his odd revere, "'Cause mum and cousin Sirius don't talk about you much," stated Nymph, with a slightly prying tone. Like many six year olds Nymph hadn't developed a sense of tact and never bothered to beat around the bush when approaching delicate subject matter. Ergo, she was blessed with the talent to ask the sorts of questions one often kept inside and strictly rhetorical.

Regulus looked very uncomfortable, but after a pregnant pause he replied, "Of course I'm not a bad guy. It's just…well…It's grown-up stuff"

Nymph despised being deemed too young to hear about something. She didn't care if it involved someone's entrails being spilled; she wanted to know, "What sort of grown-up stuff?"

Regulus sighed, "The sort that'd give you nightmares."

Nymph grinned, that was the sort she liked best, "Dad let me watch _Alien_ last week. I don't get nightmares easy."

Regulus looked dreadfully confused for a second, the gravity of Nymphs statement lost in his ignorance of muggle culture. "Well, I don't think your mum would be too pleased of I told you, at any rate. And she's already none-too-pleased with me to begin with."

"Why? Is it a dangerous adventure story? Mum doesn't approve of dangerous adventures." Nymph asked, the level of her excitement steadily rising.

"I suppose you could say it is."

"Oh! Tell me please! I want to know! Are there goblins and werewolves?" Nymph suppressed a squeal of anticipation.

"It's much scarier then goblins and werewolves," Regulus replied, still naïve to the fact that 'much scarier' roughly translated to 'much better' in Nymphs head. He sighed at his cousin's eager face and began his tale, rather reluctantly. Tonks listened, (when she wanted to, she was good at listening, but it was a rare occasion indeed when such a thing happened) she didn't particularly care that her forgotten glass of milk was going lukewarm, or that it had gotten a great deal sunnier outside since she had first stormed into the kitchen.

Then there was a sudden silence which indicated that the tale was finished. Nymph cocked her head and gave Regulus a skeptical expression, "You're really not a very good story teller, you know," she said, "It would have been much more exciting if the house elf got eaten and you had to fly out of the cave on a broomstick while it exploded. And the ending was rather shoddy too."

Regulus' face took on an odd mixture of amusement and dread, "I think it was exciting enough. And there's nothing I can do about the ending, I'm afraid, that's just how the story goes."

Nymph didn't like Regulus' tale. Though it was abundantly obvious he was making it up (because everyone knows zombies don't really live in caves and Sirius would _never_ be that mean), it still upset her. Cartoons on the Muggle telly had taught Nymph everything she needed to know about life and more. They seemed to dispense all manner of invaluable sage wisdom. In cartoons, there was good and there was evil, the hero never died no matter how many sticks of dynamite detonated in his face and the good guys _always_ won. In cartoons the hero was always rewarded and revered for his nobility and his courage, and everything was always set right by the end of the episode. The idea that these truths were not universal was frightening and alien to Nymph.

Regulus fell silent as Ted Tonks, messy mousy hair sticking out in odd angles and dressed in a ratty bath robe came into the kitchen, announcing his presence with a yawn and a groggy smile.

"Your mums home, finally," Ted said cheerfully, gesturing in the vague direction of the kitchen window. Sure enough, Andromeda Tonks was striding up the path toward the kitchens back door.

"Mummy!" Nymph cried, elated as her mum stepped in.

Andromeda looked rather disheveled and her eyes were red and puffy. "Nymphadora," Her voice was rather hoarse, but steady. "Me and daddy need to talk about grown-up things, can you go watch the muggle telly?" Nymph didn't like being spoken to like a child (the fact that she _was_ a child was irrelevant), but she could see her Mother was in no state to be trifled with and hopped off the chair without protest. However she didn't leave the room without grinning and waving at an unoccupied chair. Ted smiled; his daughter definitely had quite an imagination.

As soon as the kitchen door had closed behind the six year old, Andromeda flung herself into Ted's arms. Her head buried into his ratty old bath robe, her shoulders were shaking with unsuppressed sobs.

"It's Regulus," she said in a shaky voice muffled against the robes fabric. "Th-they found his body yesterday evening. She did it. My own sister! She tortured him and-and killed him!" Andromeda's voice was barely above a whisper but Ted knew his wife well enough to recognize when she was in hysterics.

Andromeda shakily disengaged herself from her husband and sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands and her long black ringlets splayed across the wooden surface. It was a long moment before she raised her head.

"I just can't believe he's gone," Andromeda continued as Ted pulled a chair up beside her and began to stroke her hair comfortingly. She met Ted's eyes and whispered, "He didn't even get a chance to say goodbye."

**(A/N: GAH! The cheesiness! IIIIIIIITTTTTTT BUUURRRNNNSSSS UUUUSSSSS PRECIOUSSS!!!!**

**If you didn't know, the general theory is that animals and small children are especially aware of the supernatural, so I'm not trying to imply that Tonks is a seer of any sort. Geez, you guys have no idea how close I came to just not posting this at all. Hope your face didn't peel off from reading it. **

**Remember, all types of reviews are greatly appreciated, so don't feel awkward giving crit, however harsh it may be; I'm always looking to improve.)**


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